


'My Guy Doesn't Even Smile'

by Dionys



Category: Hyakujitsu no Bara | Maiden Rose, 囀る鳥は羽ばたかない | Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai
Genre: Bond of brothers, Crossover, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Long-lost soulmates, Loyalty, M/M, Master/Servant, One Shot, Questions regarding balance in relationships, Questions regarding semes and ukes, Smut, Unexpected Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dionys/pseuds/Dionys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Laugh? Please. My guy doesn't even smile,' said Yashiro, half-complaining, half-bragging. There was a pause. 'Neither does mine,’ said Klaus von Wolfstadt. They looked at each other in surprise.</p><p>[CROSSOVER: A silly/sexy one-shot for anyone who is obsessed with both <em>Saezuru</em> and <em>Maiden Rose.</em>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	'My Guy Doesn't Even Smile'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Weatherwax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weatherwax/gifts), [Miyabi23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miyabi23/gifts).



It was clear to everyone in the bar that the beautiful man in the sling was sulking. He hadn’t smiled once since he walked in and he’d just ordered martini after martini at a booth in the corner.

Even from there, he drew people’s attention. Women crossed their legs at him pointedly. Even men cast a guilty look or two.

But he had eyes for no one.

In his mind, it had been a fight. In reality, it had been him yelling in Doumeki’s largely unresponsive face for a good ten minutes and then storming off. He’d managed to get a few solid threats in there before he left, including ‘You’re fired’ and ‘I’m going to fuck someone else tonight’ and ‘I’m going to fuck _everyone_ else tonight!’

How the argument (“argument”) began wasn’t even that important, Yashiro decided. Which was convenient, because he couldn’t really remember how it began and suspected he was to blame. What vexed him was that he and Doumeki had clearly settled into certain roles. And compared to Doumeki’s strong, stoic, sturdy… sturdiness, Yashiro always came across melodramatic, moody, irrational. Crazy. It was infuriating.

Infuriating enough that, about three martinis in, he was ready to make good on his threat. Not the one about firing Doumeki; he’d played that card once before already. The one about sleeping with someone else. That’d show him.

Enter Captain Klaus von Wolfstadt.

* * *

At first, Klaus didn’t notice him at all. He walked in all smiles, sprawled his arms over the bar and ordered a scotch in a loud, happy voice. It was warm inside so he shed his tan overcoat and rolled up his shirtsleeves. He grinned at the couple sitting to his left, making the woman blush and the man feel small.

He kept checking his phone every few minutes and drummed his huge fingers on the bar as he waited for his drink. The smile never left his face.

Today was the day Commander Taki Reizen was coming home from his overseas posting.

He was in the middle of wondering how he might cajole Taki into spending the night at his place when someone walking past knocked into his right arm. He felt the cold splash of a drink on his shoulder and chest and jolted back.

‘Oh, I am _so_ clumsy!’

Klaus’ first thought was that the man’s voice was like honey. Or silk. Something smooth and hypnotic.

Then he looked up, saw his face and forgot all about his voice.

Mellow eyes, gold hair, enigmatic lips. All framed by perfectly crafted cheekbones and defined jawline.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, indicating Klaus’ shirt. ‘I’ve made you dripping wet.’

Klaus looked down and held his shirt away from him. Of all days to wear white.

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ he said with an easy grin. ‘This way I have an excuse when I go home to the wife smelling like booze.’

Yashiro chuckled as he reached for a napkin. ‘In that case, glad I could help.’

‘Maybe you can throw a scotch on me next, just to be safe.’

Yashiro was pleasantly surprised. Banter. He’d forgotten what it was like to have two-sided banter with someone.

He slid onto the stool next to Klaus under the guise of helping mop the remains of his martini off him.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve got it,’ Klaus said, feeling a little overwhelmed by his sudden presence and attention. The man was a modern-day Adonis, even with his sling.

Before relinquishing the napkin, Yashiro’s hand had done a fair recon. Biceps of steel. And his eyes were golden, he noted in surprise. Who has golden eyes anymore?

‘Before I throw the scotch on you, let me at least buy it for you,’ he said. ‘By way of apology.’

‘No, really, that’s –’

‘You’d be making me feel better.’ 

‘Oh, alright then. Sure.’

‘Wonderful. Tamura!’

He placed the order for another scotch and martini before turning back to his kill of the night.

‘So where’s the wife? She’s missing out on all the drink-throwing fun.’

‘He,’ Klaus corrected with a self-deprecating lift of his eyebrows. ‘And really, I have no business calling him my wife. It’s just funny to imagine his face if he heard me.’

Yashiro’s pulse quickened. He was almost disappointed. This was going to be too easy.

* * *

In no time, they were a sight to behold. At some point or other, the bartender and patrons were all struck by the two light-haired men at the bar, whose endless wit and generous laughter had a strange, otherworldly quality.

Klaus was surprised at how much he and Yashiro, whose name rolled quite agreeably off the tongue, he thought, had in common.

‘What happened to your arm?’ he asked at one stage.

‘Someone shot it,’ Yashiro replied, sounding almost bored.

‘Hey, I’ve been shot too.’

‘Where?’

‘Arm as well. Chest a few times.’

‘Chest?’ Yashiro was impressed. ‘How’d you get out of that?’

‘I had a schoolbook in my coat.’

Yashiro stared. ‘Sounds like a long story.’

‘It is,’ Klaus laughed.

Halfway through his scotch, he’d started to cast a few guilty looks at Yashiro’s strong, toned form beneath the suit and vest. If Taki was an alley cat, this guy was a panther, Klaus thought before he could stop himself.

Yashiro stowed Klaus’ glances away, each in its own little drawstring pouch, for him to smile at later. He kept pressing more drinks into Klaus’ hand and watched him throw them back with a little thrill. Such an obscenely large Adam’s apple.

‘What would you have done?’ Klaus asked after detailing one of his missions in which he went somewhat rogue, to Taki’s chagrin.

‘Exactly what you did,’ Yashiro said without skipping a beat. ‘Gone in guns blazing.’

Klaus was a little surprised. ‘Really?’

‘Absolutely. Soldier or mobster, there are some things that are universal. You don’t back down when your back’s against a wall. Least of all then.’

As the minutes lengthened, Klaus’ head swam a bit. If there was supposed to be a point where he stopped feeling overwhelmed by Yashiro’s presence, it hadn’t come yet. If anything, he was getting further from it.

 _I really fucking like this guy_ , he thought a little helplessly. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

‘So what about you? You married?’ he asked eventually. His pulse picked up tellingly even as he spoke.

Yashiro gave a mean little laugh and sipped his drink. ‘He wishes.’

Klaus looked at him in surprise. Then a subtle change came over his features. Something sharpened. Hardened. Yashiro’s stomach flipped.

‘We’re fighting at the moment,’ he said. ‘I can’t remember why. I’m sure it’s his fault, though.’

‘Obviously.’

Yashiro held his gaze. The shift in the air was sudden and palpable. It was almost melodramatic, irrational and crazy, Yashiro thought.

‘I’m trying to get back at him,’ he said, tone even, eyes unmoving.

Klaus felt his heart hammer.

‘How’s that?’

‘By getting fucked by someone else.’

The words, so unfamiliar to Klaus’ ears, sent a surge of electricity straight to his cock.

‘Sounds like a great plan,’ he said in a low, dangerous rumble that Yashiro also felt in his cock.

‘Want to help out?’

It wasn’t that he forgot about Taki. In fact, Taki was plastered to his frontal lobe even as he made the decision. He suddenly craved to know what it would be like with someone so breathtakingly different. Just once. Just for the sake of comparison.

They stood up. Yashiro watched him pull on his coat and his heart gave a single loud thud. He couldn’t tell based on memory whether or not Doumeki was taller.

* * *

Yashiro had laughed when Klaus, almost nervously, asked whether his place was nearby. Without another word, he steered Klaus into the alley right beside the entrance to the bar and pushed him against the brick wall.

It was just dark and secluded enough behind the dumpster. The only threat of discovery was if the barkeep came out with a garbage bag. And Yashiro had seen a familiar look in Tamura’s eye over the night. Wouldn’t be the worst thing to have an audience.

Klaus felt all the scotch rush to his head as Yashiro’s long, slender hand held him back. The man’s half-lidded gaze was out of this world. He was overcome with the need to fuck him as soon as possible.

After throwing him an ironic little grin, Yashiro dropped to his knees. Klaus watched, expecting to wake up at any moment.

That tan coat, Yashiro thought, is sexy as fuck. He deftly released Klaus’ cock with one hand. Then he stopped and stared. It was a work of art. Already leaking a little, an imposing, exaggerated length and girth, it made Yashiro instantly think about Doumeki’s. Too close to call.

How grand it would be to have them both there, one in his mouth, one in his hand. Just for the sake of comparison.

He took Klaus deep into his throat. Klaus groaned and leaned his head back against brick.

 _It appears,_ he informed himself, _you’ve met your match._

The guilt and pleasure built at the same time, both from the same source: Yashiro was leagues and leagues beyond Taki. There were things he did to Klaus’ cock that he would think about for the rest of his life. Fingers buried in his hair, it was all Klaus could do not to come within the first ten seconds.

When he felt himself dangerously on the brink, he tugged Yashiro’s hair back none too gently and pulled him off.

Yashiro felt a familiar rush as the grip closed almost painfully on his hair. He was pulled upright and the wind was knocked out of him as Klaus pushed him against the wall. Before giving him a chance to recover his breath, Klaus covered his mouth with his own.

They kissed.

And… kissed some more.

And… as they kept kissing… something began to wind down. Slowly. Like the needle of a record player spinning off. Yashiro frowned. Klaus faltered.

In hindsight, neither could be sure if that kiss was their big mistake or their salvation.

Klaus drew back. Yashiro looked at him. The seconds dragged on. Both their hard-ons were still pressed together.

And yet.

‘I…’ Klaus began.

Yashiro, feeling it too, blinked and tried to recognise it. He couldn’t.

‘I’m not…’ Klaus tried again. His hands were still holding Yashiro’s face, mouth inches from his.

‘It’s like I’m making out with my older brother,’ Yashiro realised finally. Then he reflected. ‘And, don’t get me wrong, that kind of thing usually gets me going. But here…’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Klaus, relieved.

They stared at one another for a beat longer and then Klaus stepped away, heart still pounding. He thought about Taki again and the guilt took hold then, properly.

Yashiro felt like he’d just shed his own skin and become someone new. He’d just willfully let go of a giant of a man with hungry, grasping hands and a jaw like a set-square. What was happening to him?

He watched in bemusement as Klaus stowed his still fairly rigid cock away, not without some difficulty, and zipped up his fly.

‘Incidentally,’ said Yashiro, feeling his own cock straining against his pants. ‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-six.’

‘Ugh. Younger brother then.’ He came off the wall and straightened his tie and vest. ‘I’m surrounded by kouhais. Doumeki’s about your age.’

He was suddenly annoyed at Doumeki all over again. Doubtless even this was his fault somehow.

‘Doumeki, huh?’ said Klaus, looking up with a self-conscious smile. ‘Hope he won’t come after me for this.’

 _Oh, he might_.

‘I mean, who knows?’ he continued, his grin relaxing as the sheer ridiculousness of the situation began to sink in. ‘Maybe you’ll laugh about it one day. You and your guy.’

‘Laugh? Please. My guy doesn’t even smile,’ Yashiro said, half-complaining, half-bragging.

There was a small pause.

‘Neither does mine,’ said Klaus.

They looked at each other in surprise.

* * *

‘I need to sober up before I meet Taki,’ Klaus thought aloud as they exited the alley onto the vibrant street outside the bar.

After a moment's thought, Yashiro suggested Doumeki’s place, which wasn’t far. (‘He won’t be there, I gave him a shit ton of errands to run just so I wouldn’t have to see him for a while.’ ‘….You kicked him out of his own apartment?’ Casual shrug: ‘Depends how you see it.’) Coffee, a shower, a clean shirt. Yashiro insisted. Klaus could freshen up and meet Taki afterwards.

Klaus hesitated. It seemed like the last thing he ought to do.

And yet, since the alley, Yashiro seemed different. It was like he’d consciously dropped the seduction act. Klaus watched him, his new half-smile and tranquil expression, and couldn’t read anything suspicious behind the suggestion. After all, there was nothing left for them to do. It almost felt like they’d gotten something out of the way. Box ticked. Move on. 

And, even though he’d only known the man for half an hour, Klaus wondered if he could sense a shard of guilt hidden beneath his casual exterior.

He agreed. They hailed a cab.

* * *

In the backseat, Yashiro felt about in his pocket.

‘Damn,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Unbelievable. Must have left them at the bar.’

‘What?’

‘My cigarettes. I actually can’t remember a day in my life since I was sixteen when I didn’t have any on me. I think I even lit a new one when I was crouched behind a car getting shot at during our final mob showdown.’

Klaus reached for his pack. ‘I’ve got plenty.’

‘Thank you, but I’m quite particular about the bran-‘

He stared at the pack of Garams in Klaus’ hand. He took one mutely.

‘You know,’ he said drily as Klaus lit it for him. ‘I’m beginning to think we’re soulmates.’

Klaus smiled. Yashiro’s face was even more striking in the sharp glow from the lighter.

‘You’re probably right,’ he said.

* * *

Doumeki’s place reminded him of his own little shed in the Fifteenth Armoured Division. Small and scantily decorated but welcoming enough. He collapsed on the couch, eyes closed, head still full of scotch. Yashiro glanced approvingly at his long legs stretching over the armrest.

‘Take off your shirt.’

Klaus opened an eye and it twinkled. ‘Didn’t we just try that?’

‘So I can soak it.’

He chuckled and sat up, starting to unbutton. ‘I know, sorry. I mess around a bit too much for my own good.’

‘Preaching to the choir. I don’t know why everyone insists on being so serious all the time.’

He walked past the couch and took the shirt Klaus held up with his hand.

‘Hey, you know, I can do that,’ Klaus said as Yashiro went into the laundry. ‘I feel bad making a one-handed man clean my shirt.’

‘You seemed fine letting a one-handed man suck your cock,’ Yashiro called, voice echoing.

Klaus laughed again. ‘You got me there.’

He felt himself doze on and off as the beautiful one-handed man, who’d just given him the blow job of his life, started soaking his shirt.

* * *

Not long after that, footsteps approached.

‘Hope the stain didn’t put up too much of a fight,’ he said blearily, eyes still closed. When he got no response he opened them.

A very tall man was standing by the coffee table, pendulous fists by his sides, staring at him with an expression like a wall of ice.

Klaus jumped and sat up.

‘Oh!’

The guy. Yashiro’s guy. The one who didn’t smile. Klaus beamed and got to his feet, completely forgetting that he was sans shirt.

‘You must be –’

That was all he managed to say before the fist collided with his face.

* * *

Yashiro was alerted by what sounded like giants slamming one another into furniture. He turned off the water and hurried to the living room to be met with the sight of giants slamming one another into furniture.

He took a second to let it sink in.

Doumeki was on top of Klaus beside a toppled dining chair, his fists trying to make contact with his face, but Klaus had managed to hold his arms back. Then Klaus gained momentum and pushed him off, throwing a foot into his stomach for good measure. Doumeki was only out for a split second before he got in another punch, this time under Klaus’ chin. Klaus grunted and, grabbing a handful of Doumeki’s shirt, threw him down on the coffee table.

He was about to get back to his feet when Yashiro, feeling like a schmuck who was about to upset a rare natural phenomenon, stepped between them and tried to hold Doumeki back.

‘That’s enough,’ he lied.

Doumeki almost didn’t hear him and only Boss’ hand on his chest stopped him from tearing the tall blond bastard limb from limb.

For Yashiro, the fact that Klaus was shirtless was just icing on top of an amazing cake. Standing between them, he was instantly transported to a wonderful place where he was gagging on Klaus’ cock again while Doumeki’s cock plunged in and out of his ass. He'd be on all fours... No, he’d be on his back, Doumeki pressing his legs open and Klaus feeding him his dick at an angle. He imagined their heated, almost angry looks at one another. They would race to come first.

 _Settle the fuck dow_ n, he told himself. No point springing a boner now.

In the real world, only the angry looks remained. They stared daggers at one another while Klaus massaged his jaw.

‘As fun as that was to watch,’ Yashiro said, drinking in the tension. ‘You’re wrecking the place. And there’s very little in here to begin with.’

 _Who was taller?_  a less sensible voice reminded him. He tried judging from where he was. It was a dead heat. Klaus, perhaps? By a fraction of an inch?

‘Who the hell is he, Boss?’ Doumeki wanted to know, chest heaving.

Klaus snorted. ‘ _Boss?_ ’

* * *

Yashiro explained the situation to Doumeki while Klaus tended to his shirt in the laundry.

Doumeki didn’t believe a word.

‘So he didn’t…?’

‘Fuck me? No, he didn’t.’

‘And nothing… happened?’

‘Well, I… I wouldn’t say _nothing_ exactly… Wait, Doumeki!’

For he had taken several steps towards the laundry.

‘You idiot, let me explain.’ He remembered something. ‘Hey wait, weren’t you supposed to be running errands?’

‘The supermarket closed. I couldn’t get everything in time.’ He indicated a massive and totally unnecessary pile of grocery bags at the front door.

Yashiro fought hard to keep from bursting into laughter.

‘Okay, look,’ he said, rethinking his plan of attack. ‘I may have, sort of, sucked his cock. Just a little!’ (Doumeki looked murderous.) ‘But you’ve seen me do that recently and been okay with it. Remember Ryuuzaki?’

‘That was different.’ But Doumeki couldn’t say how exactly.

‘I was angry at you,’ Yashiro said. Doumeki picked up on something in his tone that finally made his pulse inch towards normal again. ‘And I nearly did, but I didn’t. That’s all I’m going to say about it, okay? You going to quit now?’

Doumeki stared. Eventually, of course, he said, ‘No, Boss.’

‘Good.’

‘Well, the stain’s out,’ Klaus said, choosing that moment to come out of the laundry.

‘Martini stain,’ Yashiro interjected swiftly for Doumeki’s benefit.

‘But it’s soaking wet and there’s no dryer in this place.’

* * *

And so they found themselves in Doumeki’s bedroom trying to find a new shirt for Klaus to wear. Doumeki Chikara and Klaus von Wolfstadt were, of course, practically the same size and build, so it didn’t take long.

The tension between them hadn’t dissipated entirely. It was clear that Doumeki was only behaving for Yashiro’s sake. Klaus meanwhile, though still angry about the two punches he’d let slip through the net, was quickly beginning to see the humour in all of it. In fact, he was starting to find Doumeki’s intense, angry silences almost endearing. Familiar, anyway.

Yashiro leaned against the doorway, never tiring of the view.

‘Is there something they’re putting in the water to make the new generation come out so insanely huge?’

Klaus grinned.

‘Taki’s twenty and he’s small.’

‘Ah. I’m so intrigued by this Taki-san.’

Klaus checked his phone. ‘Should be meeting him soon.’

A light bulb switched on somewhere above Yashiro's head.

‘I,’ he said suddenly, ‘have the world’s greatest idea.’

Both Klaus and Doumeki braced themselves and looked round.

‘Taki-san should come here.’

* * *

It was madness, of course. But then again, the night up until that point hadn’t been exactly sane. Klaus hadn’t really needed that much coaxing from Yashiro before he sent the deceptively simple text.

_I made a new friend. You should come visit for a bit. You’d like him._

Taki’s simple ‘ _Fine_ ’ had made him feel guilty. And then excited. Apparently the theme of the night.

After texting him the address, he tossed the phone on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, with an odd, glowing feeling that he’d made the right decision. He was wearing one of Doumeki’s shirts, which fit him a lot better than he cared to admit. He cracked his jaw.

‘Your bodyguard packs a punch.’

Yashiro poured out two glasses of scotch in the kitchen. ‘Yeah, that’s the one thing he’s good at. Well, one of two things.’

Klaus glanced sideways at Doumeki who was trying to rearrange the furniture that had been disturbed.

‘His jealousy’ll kill someone one of these days,’ Klaus said, hoping to draw Doumeki into conversation. He seemed either deaf or unresponsive.

‘Already has,’ said Yashiro, bringing the drinks over. ‘Two, actually. Shot one in the forehead and threw the other one off a building.’

‘Shit.’

‘And he's beaten quite a few others nearly to death.’ He sat down, his face unmoved, like he was discussing the news. ‘But I’m sure you’ve killed people for Taki-san.’

‘I mean… I’ve killed a bunch of people for him under his command. Enemy soldiers.’

Yashiro considered it. ‘Yeah, that counts.’

‘In that case, Doumeki-san’s tally is two and mine is somewhere like two hundred.’

At this, Doumeki almost turned. But he didn’t. Klaus chuckled and gave up.

* * *

The doorbell rang. All three looked up, feeling various things.

‘I’ll get it,’ Yashiro declared at once. He bounded to the door and opened it with regal flair.

Taki Reizen stood on the threshold, wearing a simple long-sleeved shirt and trousers. Yashiro’s mouth fell open and his cigarette had a hard time holding onto his bottom lip.

‘Fuck, you’re beautiful!’

Taki’s face flushed at the same moment that Klaus let out a loud laugh.

‘Isn’t he, though?’ he called proudly from the living room. He got up, squeezed past Yashiro into the hallway and pulled the door mostly closed behind him. Mostly.

Yashiro was still able to watch as Klaus bent down and kissed Taki full on the mouth. For a confused moment, he couldn’t figure out whom to be jealous of.

* * *

‘May I use your rest room?’ Taki asked in his firm, quiet voice.

‘Absolutely!’ Yashiro answered as though the apartment was his. The dazed look hadn’t quite left his eyes.

Taki made fleeting eye contact with Doumeki from across the room. They bowed stiffly to one another before he headed for the bathroom.

Klaus searched himself for anger or jealousy as Yashiro ogled Taki’s every step through the apartment. He found only amusement. And even more pride. It felt like he was introducing Taki to his older brother. Granted, an older brother who was off-the-wall horny and possibly in real danger of acting on his horniness. Still, Klaus felt not a stitch of animosity.

At that moment, he felt like he’d known him for years.

‘Well done!’ Yashiro breathed as he dropped onto the couch beside Klaus.

‘Thank you,’ he replied with another laugh. He realised he hadn’t laughed so much since before the war.

‘He almost makes me want to try being a seme again,’ said Yashiro, taking a deep drag. ‘Might have to take that urge out on Doumeki later tonight.’

Klaus snorted. Even Yashiro smiled at himself.

‘So, he’s six years younger than you. A hundred or so kilos lighter than you. And yet he’s your superior?’

‘Not just mine. Everyone’s.’

‘You know what’s funny? I actually believe that. There’s something about him.’

He took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. Klaus did the same.

‘How did you two meet?’ asked Yashiro.

‘Military academy.’

‘Hot.’

Another hearty laugh.

‘Doumeki, isn’t Taki-san just the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?’

‘I didn’t notice.’

‘Don’t lie! It’s like someone spent hours painstakingly drawing him. Tell me you don’t want to do awful things to that tiny body? Even I do!’

At that, Klaus spent a second (several seconds) summoning the image of Yashiro and Taki. The obsidian hair and glittering, defiant eyes staring up into the benignly calculating smile of a lithe, feline, golden-haired beauty. Even in his imagination, it felt like he was being blinded. There was just too much there. It was too dazzling. Not enough balance.

 _Balance?_ Klaus thought. He’d never thought in those terms before.

As though to test out his new theory, his eyes landed almost reluctantly on Doumeki in the corner. He braced himself and tried to picture it. He tried to picture it again. And again. The most he could do involved the two of them struggling to be alpha. (He liked to think he’d come out on top two out of three times.) Definitely not enough balance.

Interesting. 

* * *

A while later, Taki and Doumeki were in the kitchen quietly preparing snacks while the other two talked and joked away on the couch, oblivious to the rest of the world.

At first Taki had sat with them but it didn’t take long for him to feel out of his depth. Plus, feeling guilty for having imposed on a complete stranger, he felt the need to be doing something useful. He left Klaus with his new friend to help the large manservant in the kitchen.

‘Where’s Taki-san?’ Yashiro asked eventually.

‘Oh.’

They listened and heard the sounds of two pairs of feet in the kitchen. No one talking, though. Obviously.

‘Hey,’ said Yashiro with a sly grin. ‘If we locked those two in a closet together, how long do you think it would take before something happened?’

Klaus considered the problem with interest. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

‘You think they might not actually do anything at all?’

‘Probably not. Let alone fucking, they might make it through the whole time without even talking.’

Yashiro cracked up. ‘I can see that!’

‘Just sitting on a couple of upturned buckets for a year or two –’

‘Staring at their shoes –’

‘Waiting for someone to let them out.’

They dissolved into hysterics. Yashiro wiped away tears.

* * *

In the kitchen, though they were too far away to hear what they were saying, Taki and Doumeki were certainly able to hear their raucous laughter. Their eyes met once.

 _Sounds like they’re getting along well_ , Doumeki’s look said.

 _It does_ , Taki’s replied.

There was a pause between the silences of their silent conversation. Meanwhile, the golden sounds of Yashiro and Klaus rang through the apartment. Then:

 _It’s kind of nice_ , said Doumeki’s next look.

 _It is_ , Taki’s replied.

* * *

Even as he and Yashiro steadily worked their way through scotch and cigarettes, never a lull in the banter, Klaus’s mind occasionally returned to his theory.

Taki and Yashiro. Too beautiful.

Taki and Doumeki. Too slow.

Klaus and Doumeki. Too inflexible.

And of course, Yashiro and Klaus. Tried and tested. Too… something. Perhaps just too much.

His theory of balance seemed to be right on the money.

* * *

‘Are you,’ Taki said finally. ‘Yashiro-san’s chef?’

Doumeki turned to look at him before turning back to the cheese board. Boss was right, he realised. Taki-san was exquisite.

‘I’m his bodyguard. And personal attendant. And driver. And sort of chef, too. I just do what Boss wants.’

Like Klaus, Taki thought suddenly.

He glanced at Doumeki out of the corner of his eye. There was something calming about his presence. Almost the complete opposite of Klaus, who, even now, made his pulse skyrocket whenever he stepped in the same room.

Though he was never prone to idle fantasy, Taki suddenly found himself wondering what it would have been like if Doumeki Chikara had been his roommate at Luckenwalde. Followed him silently back to his country. Fought silently at his side. Listened and obeyed silently to his every command. How different things would have been.

Taki probably wouldn’t have suffered so much. He probably wouldn’t have passed out and woken up in Suguri’s office that one awful time. He was suddenly blushing.

Doumeki noticed and pretended not to.

As Taki retrieved a bowl of grapes from the fridge, he saw something attached to the freezer door. A flyer for a kendo competition. Perhaps he had something in common with Yashiro-san after all.

‘Does Yashiro-san do kendo?’

Doumeki looked around. ‘No. I do.’

Taki glanced at him in surprise. He tried to imagine that huge form wielding the shinai.

‘Me too,’ said Taki.

‘Oh.’ The image seemed to fit. He’d be small, fast and lethal.

‘Are you good?’ Taki wanted to know.

Doumeki paused. He’d never been asked that before in so many words. His first instinct was to be modest. But when he saw Taki standing in his kitchen holding a bowl of grapes, he suddenly felt like being truthful.

‘Yes,’ he said.

After a pause, Taki actually smiled. The effect was stunning.

‘I thought you would be.’

They didn’t speak again.

* * *

After taking a long, satisfying, mostly-scotch-infused piss, Yashiro had a quiet moment in the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was flushed. Happy.

First, he decided, he would suggest a sleepover.

Then Klaus would agree and make Taki see reason, somehow. Doumeki would have no say, obviously.

Then in the middle of the night, he’d wake Doumeki and the two would go to the living room where Taki would be splayed on his back on the couch, muffling his cries, with Klaus holding him down and trying to deliver the quietest possible fucking.

Yashiro’s imagination raced ahead of him. It was like he was struggling to keep up. True inspiration, he thought with a smile.

Klaus would look up when Yashiro approached but he wouldn't pull out. Yashiro would tell him to keep going. Taki, blushing to the core of his soul, would only be able to mewl and gasp. No one to save him now. Not even Doumeki, who would feel himself getting irrevocably turned on.

Doumeki wouldn’t be able to understand his emotions when Boss bent low to kiss Taki, bit his lips, thrust his tongue into his mouth. But it was enough for him to walk to the couch, pull Yashiro’s pants away, free up his cock and push in. Yashiro would moan into Taki’s mouth. Klaus would swear under his breath at the sight and fuck Taki harder.

They would be lost in it. Taki would grasp Yashiro’s neck desperately, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, accepting both his tongue and Klaus’ cock and forgetting all else. He would come over and over again and Yashiro would tell him to let it out and not hold back, even as Doumeki pounded the come out of him.

Yashiro, having long since stepped into the role of ringleader, would then tell them all to stop. Pull out. Klaus and Doumeki would reluctantly step back. Taki would try to get up too but Yashiro gently pushed him back, spread his legs, and goaded Doumeki forward. Klaus, exhausted and still horny, let it happen. Doumeki would crawl forwards and hover over Taki’s spent, panting form and their eyes would meet. Something would pass between them that Klaus and Yashiro wouldn't quite understand. And Doumeki would thrust in and Taki would cry out.

Yashiro and Klaus would then exchange a look. Perhaps they’d give it a go, despite the awkwardness in the alley. Perhaps they’d be swept along by waves of pleasure multiplied fourfold. It might even be glorious.

More likely, they’d grin at each other like childhood friends, Yashiro might perhaps suck his cock a little just for old times’ sake, and they’d settle back to watch Doumeki plough Taki to within an inch of his life.

Yashiro sighed happily at the picture. He’d swung more impossible things in his life.

* * *

‘We should have a big sleepover,’ he said immediately after he returned to the couch.

‘What, here?’ said Klaus, startled.

‘Yep.’ Yashiro threw him a look Klaus had seen earlier at the bar. ‘Things could get interesting.’

Klaus blinked. When their eyes met, it was like Yashiro had managed to transmit the image he’d so thoroughly conjured. Klaus felt a jolt. Followed by a moment of introspection. Followed immediately by laughter that bubbled up uncontrollably.

‘Yashiro-san,’ he said, sounding almost tired. ‘I’m having a hard enough time trying to make a twosome happen.’

Yashiro, though immensely disappointed, gave him a look of sincere pity.

* * *

In the end, they really did have a sleepover. Taki had been so exhausted from the plane trip that he’d fallen asleep in the living room. Doumeki was clearing away the dishes. Even Klaus and Yashiro were feeling themselves drop.

Yashiro, on behalf of Doumeki, offered for them to stay the night. Klaus drowsily accepted. They both watched Taki doze. He seemed more peaceful there, upright on an armchair in a stranger’s home, than Klaus had ever seen him when was asleep in his own bed. It had been a good decision, he thought in contentment. He’d known it at the time he sent the text.

‘I don’t get it,’ said Yashiro, handing Klaus back the lit cigarette (the last one they had left). ‘We’re both hilarious. Every word out of our mouths is comedy gold. So why did we pick the only two human beings in the world who’re incapable of cracking a smile?’

Klaus thought about it.

‘It’s got something to do with balance,’ he said.

‘Balance?’

‘I don’t know. It’s a theory I’m working on. I’ll let you know when I’ve finished.’

Yashiro laughed. ‘Please do.’

* * *

The next morning, Taki awoke first. He untangled himself from Klaus on the couch and went to the kitchen.

The smell of coffee reached the bedroom and roused Yashiro. Doumeki was still deeply asleep when he shuffled down the hall into the kitchen.

‘Morning, Taki-san,’ said Yashiro, feeling a little stir at Taki’s slightly ruffled hair and clothes. He was so small. So destroyable.

‘I want to thank you for your hospitality, Yashiro-san,’ Taki said formally. ‘I apologise for having imposed.’

‘Oh, don’t mention it,’ Yashiro said carelessly, pouring himself a mug. ‘I crash this place all the time. Doumeki barely even notices anymore.’

Taki seemed confused. ‘This… this is Doumeki-san’s apartment?’

‘Yep.’

 _I really want to eat you_ , he thought as he watched Taki reassess his entire night. _I want to know how much you can handle. I want to unleash Doumeki on you. I want –_

‘You should be nicer to him, Yashiro-san,’ Taki said softly, out of the blue. ‘To Doumeki-san.’

Yashiro needed a moment to process.

‘Nicer? What do you mean?’

‘I know it sounds rude, and I don’t mean to presume.’ Taki looked at the vase of flowers by the sink, apparently deep in thought. ‘But there are times I wish I was nicer to Klaus. And it’s easy, being where we are, to forget. How much they do for us.’

Yashiro was struck dumb. It was a simple, quiet, finely crafted speech and it left no room for anything else.

There was a long, curious silence in Doumeki’s little kitchen. Yashiro suddenly felt like he could follow the young commander to the ends of the Earth.

He eventually chuckled. ‘I can’t make any promises, Taki-san. My big idiot just asks to be treated badly sometimes, you know?’

Taki had looked up into Yashiro’s intimidating, inscrutable gaze and tried not to be too overwhelmed. He looked away, feeling a little foolish.

‘But, after hearing you put it like that.’ He took a sip. ‘I might just bear it in mind. Maybe.’

Their eyes met and Yashiro smiled.

‘But don’t tell anyone I went that far. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.’

Taki nodded stiffly, but Yashiro liked to imagine his eyes held the smallest hint of humour.

* * *

At the door, Klaus pulled Yashiro into a hug that went on far too long for Doumeki’s liking.

When Yashiro shook Taki’s hand and bowed formally, Klaus wondered if he was imagining some kind of knowing look being shared between the two. He shrugged it off as a likely effect that Yashiro had on everyone around him.

He raised his chin at Doumeki, who lowered his in response. Klaus resisted the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair. He’d probably get punched again for it. _Sorry your boss sucked my cock_ , he sent to him silently, with only a little malice. _Although, truth be told, I’m a tiny bit jealous of you on that count…_

Yashiro walked Klaus to the elevator, both of them again talking loudly enough to wake the entire floor. (‘I have to say, of all the nights I’ve had that began with someone spilling their drink on me, this one’s got to be my favourite.’ ‘Next time, we’ll invite my buddy, Kage, and his little tyke. So many different permutations and combinations there my head might explode.’)

They were too engrossed to notice the swift exchange of smiles taking place behind them.

It was impossible to tell, in that moment, that it was Taki and Doumeki who would keep in contact a lot more regularly than they did.


End file.
